


for me it's always you

by rosyjaeh



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: But it isnt really mentioned, Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Gay Chicken, M/M, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Walking In On Someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23616610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosyjaeh/pseuds/rosyjaeh
Summary: He leans in, pushes up onto his knees, catches himself on the armrest on Jeno’s other side when he loses balance, until his face poises much closer to Jeno’s. “I’m playing the game.”
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 42
Kudos: 437





	for me it's always you

**Author's Note:**

> AHAHAHAHAH
> 
> this fic was originally supposed to be an entry for bbb and a fill for the "weird threesomes" square, but i didn't finish it on time so im like. publishing it on my own now. 
> 
> the title is from taylor swift's I Know Places!
> 
> norenmin sexy !

It was a losing game from the start for him, if he’s being honest.

Simply  put, Renjun  just  doesn’t have the flirting skills, the sex appeal, if you will, to  seriously  try to kick someone else out of the game.  His chances of winning decrease to a pitiful probability of zero percent if you consider that he’s going against natural flirts and year long winners of aegyo tournaments such as Lee Donghyuck and Na Jaemin. Things aren’t looking very good for him.

While he does engage in the occasional skinship rituals, leans in a little too far to make Chenle squeal, Jisung run, to hear the fans cheer, and does aegyo on stage to distract from the real emotions bubbling under the surface, the perfect facade because the fans love it, he has never  been known  to be good at it.

Not like Jaemin or Donghyuck, known too far and too wide for this skill to ever escape it.  Renjun’s natural aversion for cute acts comes in handy only when he doesn’t have to make a fool out of himself on variety shows.

The game is  probably  not even supposed to go this far, anyway.  He guesses it  was thought  out for friend groups that take No Homo a lot more  seriously  than they do, and  is constructed  around them chickening out before they even get to lips on lips, but that’s  just  not how it is for them. Too accustomed to casual intimacy, even with the cameras off.  They already caught Jaemin with his tongue down Donghyuck’s throat, and they are only about a day and a half into the game, at most. Neither of them caved, of course.

Renjun still tries his best.  There is little that would stop him from chasing a prize, even if it’s only his pride begging to  be preserved  in these trying times.

Jeno is his first victim, the least scary option. He figures he would be the easiest to break, a lot softer and a lot less competitive than some of his other opponents. A lot less capable, or so Renjun thinks.

In an attempt to be casual, he sneaks a hand on his thigh when they’re sitting on the couch together.  Jeno doesn’t even look up from his phone, keeps scrolling even when Renjun’s hand shifts higher, fingers spreading on the warmth of his sweatpants, nails trailing along the inner seam.

He almost gets up to this crotch, knuckles close to brushing up against it, when Jeno’s fingers finally do lock around his wrist, halting him. Caught.

Jeno’s phone hovers in the air, screen illuminating the side of his face, the dip beneath his brow, the clean cuts of his cheekbone and jaw as he stares at Renjun. Whatever he was looking at forgotten. He narrows his eyes, tight clasp of his fingers burning the skin of Renjun’s arm. “What are you doing?"

His voice gives him away more than anything—a hint of breathlessness around the edges of his words. More affected than his face lets assume, and it etches a smile into Renjun’s face.

Good to know that he still has some kind of effect on the other boys.

He leans in, pushes up onto his knees, catches himself on the armrest on Jeno’s other side when he loses balance, until his face poises much closer to Jeno’s. “I’m playing the game,” he says, lips almost brushing the edge of Jeno’s jaw before he presses a kiss there. A pulse flutters against his mouth, and he can’t tell whose it is.

One kiss on the jaw turns into a series of them trailed down Jeno’s neck, sucking on his collarbone, the hand that isn’t propping Renjun up slid into his hair.  It’s when he’s reaches his jaw again and delivers a small peck to his earlobe that Jeno moves, a hand slamming into Renjun’s hip bone, curling into his shirt, but not pushing him away. If anything, he pulls him closer, tilts his head back  just  a little.

Renjun grins into his neck at that, teeth against bare skin, swings one leg over Jeno’s thigh, straddling it so he can relief his arm. He slides the hand up Jeno’s chest instead, two fingers dipping under the collar of his shirt.

They are in the middle of the living room, on open display for anyone who was to walk in, with Jaemin down the hall and the hyungs on the other side of the building, unsuspecting. But Renjun could care less about them, digs his face in deeper, Jeno’s neck lying shiny with spit in his wake. Their hips knock, and Jeno groans.

A violent shudder rips through his body when Renjun sinks his teeth into the base of his neck.

Jeno lets himself fall back onto the couch, the arm he hooks around Renjun’s back pulling him along. They crash down, soft cushions giving around them, chest to chest.

They might have been playing the game, but now Jeno has started his round, too.

Renjun noses back up Jeno’s neck, biting scent of cologne far too close to his nose but he inhales it, fills his lungs with it. He opts for exchanging his biting with softer kisses along Jeno’s cheek,  just  to keep things fun. Jeno turns his head towards him, breath hitting his jaw, feathery brush of his lips against Renjun’s skin.  His breath hitches in his throat when Jeno starts kissing along his jaw, lips softer than butterfly wings, moving so slow he drives Renjun up the wall. Not  unintentionally, he guesses.

He explores every inch of this half of Jeno’s face, lips trailing over his temple, the delicate skin under his eye. When they reach the corner of his mouth, Renjun draws away.

“Is this okay?” Their faces still hover close enough for the words to land on Jeno’s lips, breath fanning over his face. He should’ve asked a while ago,  probably , but driving the others past their limit is what the game is about.

“If it wasn’t okay, I would’ve called chicken when you started, wouldn’t I?” There’s a hint of snide in Jeno’s voice, almost, but his hand comes up to the side of Renjun’s face, gentle, tucks a piece of his hair behind his ear.

Their lips meet in a gesture sweeter than anything else they shared tonight, noses bumping and a giggle which Renjun isn’t sure if it came from him or Jeno. Or both.

Jeno’s lips are smooth and giving and taste a little bit like the tteokbokki they had for dinner, but that’s okay. Renjun shifts even closer, one hand just barely holding him up, chest grazing Jeno’s, and for a moment allows himself to forget that Jeno is only kissing him, that he is only kissing Jeno, because they have a game to win.

For a moment, he lets his eyes slip shut and loses himself in the warmth of Jeno’s embrace, the hand stroking down his back and the mouth that molds against his like made for each other.

It’s easy to forget yourself, if forgetting is all you ever try to do.

Jeno’s tongue is the first to run along the seam of Renjun’s lips, poke his lower lip to ask for entrance, which is a surprise of itself, but it gets even better when Renjun lets him in and Jeno raises his head off the couch with how hard his mouth slams into him, the force he puts into it, trying to take control. Heat coils in Renjun’s guts.

“Oh wow.”

They bolt apart at once, Renjun still straddling one of Jeno’s thighs, lips bruised red and glistening with spit. Jaemin stares at them from the doorway, eyebrows raised.

“Well, I was gonna ask if one of you would be willing to come to the store with me, but it looks like you guys are having a lot more fun than that in here.”

“Actually!” Renjun swings his legs over Jeno’s thighs, scrambles to his feet so fast he  nearly  topples over. Now that he has space to think about what  just  happened, his heart climbs into his throat and he can’t wait to get away. “We  just  got done. I also need to go to the store, I  just  remembered.”

Jaemin’s eyebrows  fly  up once more, and Jeno clears his throat behind him, but he runs to grab his shoes and wallet before either of them can say anything, the pounding in his chest a little louder than it needs to be.

Loud enough for Jaemin to hear when they climb into the car together. Loud enough for him to ask.

When he assures him he’s okay, Renjun can  barely  hear his own voice.

* * *

In the end, it’s Donghyuck who kicks Jeno out of the game. Of course.

Renjun is unclear on the details of what happened.  What Donghyuck could have  possibly  done better than him, how far he had to take it before Jeno gave up, but Jeno looks  positively  disturbed when he drops into Renjun’s bed.

He refuses to tell him what happened, cheeks shooting red, so Renjun decides to get his info from the source.

It’s not hard to track Donghyuck down, even in the wide expanse of the shared dorm building.  At any given time of the day there are only about three locations he could  possibly  be in—one, his bedroom: empty spare for the stray cat Taeyong lets in curled up on Johnny’s bed. Two, the 127 kitchen, where Yuta and Doyoung are having breakfast, but not Donghyuck. And three, the Dream kitchen: ding ding ding.

He’s sitting on the table, feet propped up on the  perfectly  good chair, stealing Jisung’s favorite cereal.

“Good morning, Injunnie.” He smiles around the corn flakes in his mouth, waves his spoon. Innocent, like he didn’t  just  manage his first kill of the game.  None of his usual cockiness, glint in his eyes put out, and Renjun can’t tell if it’s part of his game strategy, lull him in safety and charge before he knows it.

Is this what he did to Jeno? Soft touches, soft voice, hand up Renjun’s arm, fingers tapping down his spine. Even on break, Donghyuck smells like expensive cologne. He offers him a massage, and Renjun shudders.

“What has you so tense?”  Donghyuck asks, voice pure saccharine, fingers digging into the hard muscles of Renjun’s neck. “Do you want to eat something?”

“I’m okay.” He leans back, gives in to the press of Donghyuck’s fingers, prying his muscles apart. “I actually came to ask you about what you did to Jeno, but—”

Donghyuck’s laugh fills the edges of the room, fills Renjun’s chest. He laughs high and clear, runs one hand through Renjun’s hair. “Oh, I saw you did a number on him yourself, alright. Did I steal your prize?” His hand stays in Renjun’s hair, digging into his scalp instead. “I never pegged you as the type. Jeno looks like he  was mauled.”

Renjun smiles, turns his head to nudge Donghyuck’s arm with his nose. “I tried.”

“Well.”  Donghyuck winds his fingers into Renjun’s locks, his other hand sliding back to rest against the side of his neck. “You did a good job.” His thumb trails along Renjun’s jaw bone, pushes up his face to align with his. “But you know that you’re never gonna win, right? Not against me.”

He kisses him square on the mouth, crumbs of sugary cereal and minty chapstick, and all.

Before Renjun can press back, he’s gone. Skips down the hall with a giggle in his throat.

“You don’t stand a chance, Huang!”

* * *

Renjun almost feels a little sorry for Jisung and Chenle, who are part of the game, yes, but not part of the weird entanglement the older four find themselves in only days after the start of the round.

Jisung is the first one to lose, too.  He manages to endure Jaemin kissing his cheek, even a gentle peck on the lips as far as Renjun can tell, but he screams chicken the very second Jaemin presses harder, hand on his thigh.

It takes Chenle a little longer to lose his composure, he even outlives Jeno.  Maybe  it’s because he sleeps at his mother’s house, isn’t exposed to them as much.  Renjun watches from where he’s leaned against the mirror wall as Donghyuck crowds him into the corner of the practice room, sweet words, grabby hands.

Two consecutive kills for Donghyuck when Chenle goes down with a scream a mere second after Donghyuck’s mouth brushes the side of his neck, too jittery to stay level as he screams for it to end.

Half of them are out, and Renjun is in it for real now. He knows that Jaemin and Donghyuck will go for him as he’s still an easier target than the both of them. They will want to get everything out of the way before their big end battle. But, if anything, Donghyuck’s words in the kitchen have made Renjun all the more competitive. If he has to come to terms with losing, he’s not about to go down without a fight.

Donghyuck is off limits, for the moment at least because Renjun is too proud to seek him out again, even if he would be the more comfortable option. Jaemin is a little too dangerous, smile a little too wide, too nice.

Lips stretching to reveal more teeth than he should have, sickly sweet poison pearling off the sharp canines.

Renjun will have to step up his game, if he wants to have any chance at winning.  His plan with Jeno escalated beyond his control, little Renjun in his pants taking over all rational thought the minute he slipped onto Jeno’s lap, at the latest, and it still wasn’t enough to break even Jeno. Jaemin is a whole other caliber.

He dodges Donghyuck after practice, puts out the smug smile on his face when he gets rid of him in the hallways leading to the elevator.  Quick on his feet, pretending he didn’t see anything, slipping into the car right before it takes off down the street, leaving Donghyuck to wait for the next one.

Chances are he will want to go straight home and not follow Renjun into the Dream dorm if he can’t catch him in the practice building. Practice is tiring in the cold months, and no one stays out any longer than necessary.  With the losing half of the group out to get snacks together now that they are safe from each other, Renjun and Jaemin should be home alone. Perfect timing for Renjun’s plan to set in action, jaw snapping shut.

The lion’s den. It’s quiet when he enters, hangs up his coat, kicks off his shoes by the door. The living room lies in eerie silence. With Donghyuck out of reach, it’s only him against Jaemin, and the game has begun.

He knows he looks like an easy target, easy to overwhelm, but Jaemin has yet to learn how determined he is.

Jaemin waits for him in the kitchen.  He’s pretending not to, as he is actually cleaning the dishes they used for lunch, but the way his eyes flit up when he hears Renjun approach gives his act away.

“How was practice?” he asks, smile etched into his cheeks. Too casual for the movement of his eyes, trailing down Renjun’s arm when he rests his hand on the counter. Too casual for what they both know is about to happen, tension in the air so thick Renjun almost feels strangled. It clogs up his nose, occupies every thought.

Renjun replies only after a moment, voice slowed down by the weight on his tongue. “Good. It was great.”

The smile on Jaemin’s face broadens a little, reaches into his eyes. He likes the effect he has on Renjun, likes getting into his head, if the glint in his eyes in any way to tell.

“So, you’re still in the game, huh?” Jaemin puts some of the clean dishes away, moving around like the tension isn’t affecting him at all. Renjun doesn’t want to think that he’s clearing off a space on the counter.

“I am.” Renjun’s fingers curl around the edge of the surface. “So are you.”

Jaemin smiles  impossibly  wider, too far across his face, too many teeth to be real. “I gotta be honest, I thought you’d be the first to lose. Or one of the first, at least. I didn’t think you’d be that brave.”

_That brave_ _._ He left bruises blossoming on Jeno’s neck, in the shape of his teeth.  He kisses him, in the middle of the living room while sitting on his thigh, Jeno’s tongue in his mouth, pouring the fire burning under his skin out through his mouth, right down Jeno’s throat until Jaemin himself interrupted them. He got braver than anyone expected of him, and it felt so good. And it still wasn’t enough to win.

“Well, I’m sorry to break your streak, but,” Jaemin smiles, hand sliding over the counter, “you know that you can’t win against me, right?” The words are so like what Donghyuck told him. “I’ll always win.”

He closes the distance between them with a few steps and Renjun lets him have it, stumbles back, crashes against the wall with Jaemin close enough to cage him in.  Their chests are mere inches apart, Renjun’s head thrown back to keep his eyes on Jaemin, and he does his best to look scared, intimidated.

Jaemin smirks and, oh, he’s so sure of himself. He knows he’s hot, years of fans cheering at the mere sight of his face rooting the confidence deep. Renjun lets him, feeds into it if he can, only for the moment.

Only so he can watch Jaemin’s eyes widen, his cheeks fill with blood when he hooks a finger into Renjun’s collar, pulls him up until their faces align, and Renjun drops his act. He didn’t come here to lose, and he makes sure that Jaemin knows that. A single kiss against Jaemin’s jaw has him gasping, colored surprised.  Renjun kissing down his neck, hand spidering up Jaemin’s abdomen sends him flying back against the counter, unsure on his feet, Renjun attached to him until he’s caged in.

Jaemin’s breath gets stuck in his throat when Renjun mouths past his clavicles, down his chest.  Now it’s his fingers curling around the edge of the counter, digging into his palms and hip, and Renjun has the upper hand. His fingers dance down Jaemin’s sides. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Renjun looks up, eyes round, soft, like he looked at him before, draws the innocent act back up. “What?” he asks, voice tinted sugary, small kiss into the dip of Jaemin’s chest. “You want me to stop?  Just  say the word.”

He bends down at the knees, trails more kisses along the plush expanse of Jaemin’s ribs,  slowly  sinking to the floor as his hands caress down Jaemin’s sides, coming to rest on his hips. Muscles shift under his hands, under his lips, he kisses the plane of his tummy and Jaemin strains above him.

They both know that Jaemin is too proud to lose, not to someone like Renjun, someone who  was expected  to be the first to lose.  Jaemin would never give in to him, not even if his knees buckle when Renjun slides his hands over his thighs, fingers digging into the tense muscles, bulging under his palms.  He bites his lips, throws his head back so far Renjun has clear view on the bopping of his adam's apple when he swallows around nothing.

Anything to prevent the fateful words from spilling out.

Really  , Renjun has no idea what he’s doing, or what he’s supposed to do now that he’s more or less on his knees in front of Jaemin in the dorm kitchen.  He doesn’t know how far he’s allowed to take this, how far is too far, even if something hot coils in his guts at the fleeting thought of Jaemin’s dick in his mouth.

Just  like it did when he was making out with Jeno only a few days ago.

This is, after all, a game to prove to each other how straight they  really  are.  He’s had his doubts about Jaemin and Donghyuck in the past, he guesses everyone has, but he never thought he’d have doubts about himself.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Jaemin’s voice, a lot rawer than it needs to be after zero action, brings Renjun back to the present. That being the tiles digging into his knees and his face hovering right in front of Jaemin’s crotch. His hands on Jaemin’s hips shake a little. “Or are you too chicken to go through with it, now?”

Renjun didn’t come here to lose.  For the game, he tells himself when he locks eyes with Jaemin and seals his lips over the swell right under the buckle of Jaemin’s belt.

The groan Jaemin lets out when Renjun works his mouth against him over the fabric of his pants is so guttural that he wouldn’t  be surprised  if the hyungs in the other half of the building heard it.

Maybe  they are both a little too enthusiastic about the whole ordeal, one of Jaemin’s hands leaving the counter to twist into Renjun’s hair and pull, pull him closer, harder against his crotch, while Renjun curls his fingers harder into Jaemin’s hip bones, firm enough to bruise, shoves them closer together, until he can’t breathe.

It’s a bit of a hassle, unbuckling Jaemin’s belt and getting his pants out of the way enough for Renjun to have unhindered access to his dick, but, shimmying and shuffling around a little, they make it work.

Renjun’s cheek flush hot at the sight of Jaemin’s dick,  maybe  in embarrassment,  maybe  not, heat in his guts spreading into his chest, blood rushing south so fast it leaves him a little dizzy.

The expanse of naked thighs and hips lies glittering and golden in front of him, good enough to lick.  Jaemin jumps when he does  just  that, drags his tongue from the top of his thigh over the ridge of his hip up to the softness right under his abs, but he moans right after. Worth it.

He’s never sucked a dick before, not when he was still sure he was straight until a very recent turn of events, but he’s seen porn, both straight and gay porn (in retrospect, watching gay porn is  maybe  not an activity that  strictly  straight guys engage in, and  maybe  he should have come to this realization a little before he was about to go down on one of his best friends), and he thinks he’s got a pretty good grasp on what’s expected of him here.

Another deep breath to ground himself, he doesn’t  really  know how breathing down there will work yet, and wraps his fingers around the base of Jaemin’s dick.  It’s bigger than his own only in circumference, but there  really  isn’t much of a difference in holding it, in sliding the tight ring of his fingers up and down at the base.

Just  that the sight of his own dick doesn’t usually make him full body flush, and that this one is  considerably  closer to his face. All things considered, not a bad development, though.

The first taste is a little bitter, his tongue flat against the tip, underlying taste of salty skin.

He keeps his fist around the base, flits the tip of his tongue around the head, over the slit, and Jaemin is groaning before Renjun even closes his lips around the head. His eyes  are closed  when Renjun looks up at him, cheeks burning red, and he decides to take it up a notch. Runs his tongue along the side of his dick, traces a vein with the tip, suckles on the head. By the time he decides to have mercy, Jaemin is panting above him.

He peppers kisses along the line of Jaemin’s hip while working his fist up and down his length, the slide now much easier with his own spit working as lube. It’s a pretty gross thought, but if it works.

It slides into his mouth with ease, jaw hanging open wide, lips sealed around the length, tongue circling around it. Jaemin’s hand comes up to his neck, digs his fingers into his skin, to support him or to support himself, Renjun can’t say. The sting of the nails in his skin helps him keep his head clear.

He takes a moment to adjust himself around the dick in his mouth, stretching the hinges of his jaw to accommodate the weight, curling his tongue over his teeth before he starts to  gently  bop up and down.

It’s all a bit clumsy at first, he gets the angle all wrong, the head humps against the roof of his mouth and he has to spend a second shuffling around, but he finds a rhythm  eventually. Goes down deeper, keeping a fist around what he can’t reach, and Jaemin full body shudders.

“Holy shit, have you done this before?”  Jaemin’s fingers twist tighter into the hair at his nape, pull a little until Renjun winces and Jaemin stares down at him, face burning red. “Oh my god. Oh god, I’m so sorry.” He smooths his hand out of his hair, unwinds his fingers, brushes along his cheek. “Did I hurt you? I’ve been holding your head like a fucking dumbass, I’m so sorry, that’s so rude.”

He stares down at Renjun with eyes blown wide and he’s still burning red, face every shade of pink it can reach, and Renjun would like to kiss him. Kiss him and tell him things will be okay.

When he started thinking about kissing boys, kissing boys that are his groupmates and live in the same apartment as him, he can’t tell.  Maybe  it was after he kissed Jeno,  multiple  times, or  maybe  it was way before that, when he caught Jaemin with a hand down his pants, when he and Donghyuck started squeezing into the shower together.  Maybe  he’s always thought about kissing boys,  really  , he  just  didn’t realize.

Alas, his mouth  is occupied  otherwise right now, and he settles for grabbing Jaemin’s hand, holding it to the back of his head. Flicks his tongue around the tip of Jaemin’s dick, runs it along the sides until he stops thinking.

“Holy fuck,” and Jaemin’s fingers curl into his hair again on their own.

It’s hot,  all of  it is pretty hot, the sting on his scalp, Jaemin’s breathy moans, head tilted back so far Renjun can  barely  see his face, thick warmth on his tongue. It leaves Renjun a little breathless, heat spreading below his belly, reaching everywhere. Everything burns when he stares up at Jaemin, heart in his throat.

Jaemin brings his face back down, catches him staring, a moment of molten feeling between them.  Red faces and catching their breath, sparks under his skin where Jaemin digs his fingers into the back of his neck.

He wants to kiss him so bad.

And he could. He could abandon him down here, lean up, press into him as  deeply  as he wanted. He could, he doubts Jaemin would push away or say no at this point.

But he tightens his fingers around Jaemin’s dick instead, goes down a little deeper, play of his tongue and Jaemin’s hips stutter up against him. He lets out a strangled cry when Renjun pins him to the counter.

“Holy shit, dude, Renjun, hold on—”

Renjun doesn’t hold on, curls his free hand around Jaemin’s hip bone and sucks, other hand squeezing his balls until Jaemin tenses, convulses above him, cum spurting down Renjun’s throat.

It’s bitter, disgusting and he isn’t as prepared for it as he thought he was, chokes a little when it hits the back of his throat, but Jaemin won’t stop whining. He thrashes around when Renjun licks the residue cum off his dick.

Face to face, Renjun’s knees are a little wobbly from spending so much time on the ground, and Jaemin stares at him, still out of breath. His eyes are so big, his cheeks are so red, and Renjun feels like he looks the same. Hot shame pooling in his chest with how much he wants to lean over and kiss him.

A step out of line in this dance they’ve kept up for days. How much of it was  really  dancing?

“Shit, Renjun, I—” Jaemin starts.

The front door falls open, Jisung’s laughter rings down the hall. The moment breaks.

* * *

They don’t talk about it, Renjun doesn’t look Jaemin in the eyes anymore. Eyes so deep, so dark, lashes that draw you in, keep you trapped close to the sticky honey.  Eyes that Renjun stared into when he let Jaemin come down his throat, blown open and vulnerable, eyes he imagined later that night, spread on his own sheets.

The frame of his bed digs into his back, a cup of tea steaming on the bedside table. Jisung brought it in earlier, because Renjun skipped dinner again. Hand against his head, to feel a temperature that wasn’t here.

“I hope you feel better soon, hyung,” Jisung said, and Renjun didn’t even move.

He felt bad, for Jisung who looks at him with big eyes when he passes in the hallway to reach the shower, and for  all of  them who steer clear of his bedroom, so he crawled out of the bed, sat down against the frame.

It digs into his back and the cup on the table keeps steaming. It’s not the kind of tea he likes.

He hasn’t talked to Jaemin since it happened, two days ago, he doesn’t even know if they’re still playing, or if one of them won. Is he still in the game? He didn’t chicken out,  technically. He walked away, composed, retreated into his room with only a hint of tears in his eyes. Jaemin didn’t say anything, so he guesses he’s still in.

What that means, he can’t tell.  Maybe  the game is over,  maybe  they’ve realized how stupid this game is.

None of them  were prepared  to how much chaos this would cause.

A tentative knock on his door, two, three, until Renjun calls out for them to come in. It’s Jeno, bedhead framed by light, with another cup of tea. The air he brings in smells like mint toothpaste and Jaemin’s chocolate cookies.

“Jisung realized that he made you the wrong tea, but he was too embarrassed to come bother you again.” He sets it down on the bedside table, right next to the first one. One of Jaemin’s favorite cookies balanced on the saucer. Jeno sits down next to Renjun on the floor, uninvited. “Are you feeling any better?”

Was Renjun ever sick in the first place?  Maybe  he is.  Maybe  this will all pass.

He stays quiet, stares at the wall opposite of them until Jeno sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. It lands on Renjun’s shoulder, squeezes down on the muscle until the tension bleeds out.

“I don’t know what happened between you and Jaemin, he wouldn’t tell me. Whatever it is, though,  I think  you guys need to talk about it. No use sitting around in here and waiting for things to go back to normal.” Jeno tilts his head to the side, sweep of messy hair. The shadow of bruises on his neck. “They won’t if you don’t make them.”

Jaemin’s room is  just  a few doors down the hall. A room Renjun has spent a lot of his free afternoons in, a room he’s spilled his secrets to. Jaemin’s not someone he’d keep secrets from, and neither is Jeno.

“We took the game a little far, is all.” Secrets drag your heart down until you can’t see the sky.

“Yeah, that’s what he alluded to, too.” Jeno snorts. He’s staring at the wall, they’re staring at the same wall. “I’m not gonna ask you to elaborate, but I still think you need to talk to him. You’re both thinking too much.”

In the grand scheme of things,  maybe  they are. It’s easy to get lost in your thoughts.  To hide your face in your hands, try not to look when the other boys take their shirts off even though no one else averts their eyes. Even though they grew up together and know each others’ bodies better than anyone else.

Thoughts are easy, they come to you for free, actions are harder. Feelings are harder.

Everything becomes harder, life weighs you down deeper, once you look at your best friend and your heart picks up the pace, your face shoots red. When a warm hand on your arm turns into a fire.

When Jeno reaches out to squeeze his shoulder and it sends a shiver down his spine.

The same hand that was running through his hair a few days ago, soft words from lips he knows the taste of. Jeno is always warm, steady next to him when Renjun is about to forget how to walk. Stretched out hand to help him stay standing, Jeno never questions him.

He doesn’t when Renjun leans over now, asks, “Can I kiss you?” He  just  nods, and Renjun does.

It’s comforting, the spark in his chest when their lips touch, like nothing ever happened between him and Jaemin. Nothing worth thinking about, at least not with Jeno keeping a hand against his neck, warm.

He couldn’t say why he does it, why he wants to kiss him right that moment, or why Jeno lets him.  Maybe  things stopped being about the game the moment they got too caught up in kissing that first day in the living room. When they couldn’t brush it off as playing when Jaemin caught them there.

Maybe  the only reason he’s making such a fuss out of the Jaemin thing is because it’s more than  just  a game. But that makes things all the more complicated.

Things become harder when he stops thinking about good moves at dance practice or how raspy voices make songs interesting. Instead he starts thinking about flexible legs and strained throats moaning his name.

Jeno’s lips are so warm against his, his hand holds him steady, in his place. This his place.

* * *

Jaemin likes his room cold, cracks the window open while he sleeps because he thinks it’s good for his immune system. Renjun thinks he’s stupid and crawls under the blanket.

He has the biggest bed out of  all of  them, because he’s a menace and also because he sleeps like a starfish, and it’s become a meeting point.  They talk about songs on Jaemin’s bed, they read fan letters on Jaemin’s bed, Renjun curls up under Jaemin’s blanket when he can’t sleep, stares at the ceiling and listens to Jaemin talk about the future. He tells him about the stars on nights when Jaemin is quiet.

The door creaks open, sends a soft breeze down the hall and into Renjun’s face.

Jaemin isn’t asleep, laptop screen illuminating the wall behind his bed, soft music from his earbuds. He looks up when Renjun knocks on the door frame, smiles, tentative.

“Hi.” Jaemin sits up a little, pats a space on the bed next to him. Invites him in, no questions asked, the same soft sheets he’s been using since the day they moved in. They smell like fabric softener and cologne.

His room is always so tidy, one of the things in his life he doesn’t leave a mess.  A  neatly  folded pile of laundry, arranged stationary on his desk even though Renjun isn’t sure if he knows how to read. The books on the shelf would suggest so, but Renjun still has his doubts.

The camera bag is the only thing out of place, hanging over the desk chair.

Jaemin catches him staring at it, rubs his hands down his own thighs. “I’ve been editing some old stuff. To take my mind off things, you know? Keeps me busy.”

To keep his mind from wandering. “What things?”

A smile spreads on Jaemin’s face like a blush, burns in pink and red.  Everything about Jaemin has always burnt in brighter colors, even when his hair is brown and his eyes are nearing weary with sleep.

“Ah yes,” he says, cocks his head to the side.  The breeze from the window, Seoul city night air in the middle of February, isn’t enough to keep the heat from spreading. It reaches into Renjun’s cheeks, pulls him closer to Jaemin. Anything for the sweet release, coolness against his skin. “I guess that’s why you’re here, hm?”

Renjun’s face burns brighter. “Jeno said we should talk about … the thing. The thing that happened.”

“Jeno, hmm?” Jaemin leans back on his hands, body pulled taut like a bow. Sleazy smile on his face and his cheeks don’t even grow red. “Did you tell him what happened?”

It’s like none of it affects him, the easy smile, wiggle of his brow, but Renjun knows it does. Knows it did, Jeno said _you both,_ Jisung was shy about not being able to talk to either of them.  Jaemin has always been too good at putting on this mask, cocky motherfucker and a smile that breaks hearts. Does it break Renjun’s heart?

“I didn’t tell him.” But not for lack of wanting to.

What would Jeno have said, if he’d told him? It hasn’t been that long since Jeno had his own tongue down Renjun’s throat. Would he  be surprised  that Renjun went so much further with Jaemin? Jealous?

“Why not?” Smile so greasy it almost hurts to look at, pulled too wide, all sleepiness gone. “After all, I walked in on you two while you were in the middle of something, didn’t I? It’s only fair for him to know, don’t you think?”

He’s playing some kind of game, or  maybe  he’s  just  trying to act cocky, or  maybe  he’s planning something.

Jaemin has always escaped all logic and reasoning in Renjun’s head, from the day they met.

“We were just... playing the … game.” They were, they all are  just  playing a game. After all.

“Oh, yeah.” Jaemin is so close  all of  the sudden, Renjun didn’t seem him move.  Was too wrapped up in staring at his face, until Jaemin’s knees bump into his, hand right next to Renjun’s thigh, digs into the mattress. “The game. Of course, I suppose we were also  just  playing the game the other day?”

It’s so much, Jaemin is so close to him, the bed isn’t big enough for both of them  all of  the sudden, there’s not enough space to breathe. Heat creeps over them like a blanket, suffocating, presses him down.

“That’s what I was thinking. While I …”

“While you sucked my dick.” Jaemin’s eyebrows  fly  up, his cheeks  are tinted  the slightest bit of pink now. A breath of a rose petal blush. “In a game that’s about us chickening out before we even kiss each other.”

Renjun doesn’t know why he says it, it flies form his lips before he can stop himself. “We haven’t kissed.”

They haven’t, not once during the entire fiasco in the kitchen did they kiss, Renjun’s mouth too occupied with other things, Jaemin too overwhelmed.  Maybe, if they hadn’t  been interrupted,  maybe  if the others hadn’t come back home the moment they finished, Renjun would’ve done it. Would’ve leaned up to kiss Jaemin’s shaking lips.

Jaemin isn’t shaking now, but his eyebrows climb  impossibly  higher up his forehead.

“Well, we can do something about that, can’t we?”  He gets even closer, spread thighs to fit Renjun  in between, torso falling over until his face is mere inches from Renjun’s. No space to breathe, no room between them for the redness of Renjun’s cheeks to flee into, no place to hide. “Unless you don’t want to?”

But Jaemin knows he wants to, Renjun can tell by his eyes, he’s more careful than he lets on. A question, gentle, Renjun’s breath hitches in his throat when Jaemin tilts his chin up.

And then his hands slide into Jaemin’s hair, the switch in his chest flips, whatever made him act out that day is back. They crash together in a fumble of noses, lips melting together, Jaemin’s thumbs dig into his cheeks.  It tastes like everything sweet, like the heat in Renjun’s guts, and Jaemin’s lips are so rough from lack of chapsticks but everything else about him is so soft.  He falls open so  easily  above him, eyes fluttering closed when Renjun wraps an arm around his shoulders, finally flushes down his neck, he’s so warm, burning up.

“Is this still about the game?”  His words vibrate against Renjun’s mouth,  just  far apart enough to speak but Renjun seals their lips again until Jaemin breaks free once more. “Please tell me this is not about the game.”

“I think  we stopped playing the game a long time ago, Jaemin.”

Jaemin’s mouth knocks back into his, full force, like they never stopped, never did anything else.  Hard enough for Renjun to lose his  purchase  on the mattress, hands scrambling over the silky sheets until he slides down, lands on his back. Jaemin doesn’t let off of him, he’s so close, bend over him. Warm.

Everything is so warm, Renjun locks his legs around Jaemin’s hips, pulls him  impossibly  closer.

He doesn’t know how far they should take this, even outside of the game, when he hikes his hands up Jaemin’s shirt, heated skin under the pads of his fingers, matching the warmth between Renjun’s hips. This time, Renjun breaks away, looks up at Jaemin, burning red. Cheeks the color of his lips, which lie bruised and shiny with spit. He asks, because that’s all that’s left to do. “How far do you wanna take this?”

Jaemin stares down at him, monochrome light on his face but it fails to pale him.  Eyes blown wide like the day in the kitchen, his hand rests heavy on Renjun’s side, the other pressed into the mattress, holding him up.

He holds nothing back, throws open the gates and lets it all out when he says, “As far as you’re willing to go.”

And then he’s almost gentle, when he falls back into him, when their lips move in sync and Renjun kisses him so hard his head lifts off the mattress.  Jaemin remains almost gentle, almost, a warm hand on Renjun’s body, sneaking up his side, and his movements are slow, tentative, but there’s purpose. He works Renjun’s mouth open with his lips, kisses him more, draws it out of him until Renjun lets his mouth fall open. Lets him in.

The air smells like Jaemin’s cologne, it presses into his senses, it’s all he’s surrounded by. Nothing to smell, not even the city outside the window, nothing to feel except Jaemin.

Renjun slides his own hand back up Jaemin’s shirt, feels along the smooth skin of his side, the pattern of his ribs. He’s sturdy, a warm, solid body right above him, and it’s so overwhelming. The kisses pressed to his mouth still, never letting off, Jaemin looming above him, doesn’t want to crush him. Their hips pressed together.

It’s so much, Renjun forgets how to breathe for a moment.

“Tell me to stop whenever,” Jaemin says, and he sits back  just  enough to hike his hands under Renjun’s shirt and pull it up, waits Renjun for raise his head before he pulls it over it.

He presses a kiss into the dip of Renjun’s chest, and it makes Renjun’s heart flutter a little more than it should.

They’ve seen each other naked countless of times, in music show dressing rooms, or  just  around the dorm. Grow up living with four boys your age and you will  eventually  be privy to each other’s naked bodies, like it or not.

But this is different. They didn’t take their shirts off in the kitchen, Renjun didn’t lose any of his clothes then and Jaemin  barely  did. This is … vulnerable, Jaemin pulls his own shirt over his head so Renjun doesn’t stay the only one exposed. Shirtless in Jaemin’s bed, pinned down under his hips.

The room heats up more with every second, and then Jaemin comes back down to kiss his neck.

Everything he does, every movement, his warm weight looming over Renjun like this, it’s all pressing down on him, overwhelms him, it’s all a little much.

Jaemin feels him tense, pulls his head back up. “You ok? Do you want to stop?”

He doesn’t want to stop, the pressure in his lower belly is getting almost painful, this is where he would  normally  take the edge off himself, this is where he can’t take it anymore. But he doesn’t, not when Jaemin is right here, over him, almost on top of him. Renjun slides a hand up Jaemin’s arm, squeezes down.

“No. Please touch me, Jaemin, please.”

It’s all he needs to hear, he threads a hand into Renjun’s hair, pulls his head off the mattress. Their kisses come easier now, they’re finding their way around, Jaemin’s tongue in his mouth, his tongue in Jaemin’s.

Renjun’s head spins from how worked up he is getting over this alone, he throws an arm around Jaemin’s shoulders and pulls himself off the bed, kisses him harder. Jaemin doesn’t budge, not when he can take Jeno lifting himself up on his shoulders without ceasing to walk and—

Oh. Jeno.  There he is, at the forefront of Renjun’s mind and he  really  shouldn’t be thinking about another man while he’s making out with Jaemin, but there he is. Jeno, who he made out with  just  a few days ago.

Jeno, who’s tall and handsome but also  really  nice, who has a warm smile and pretty eyes and sits on the floor of Renjun’s room with him when he’s having a meltdown over having sucked his best friend’s dick. Jeno who doesn’t  really  care about what they get up to, but  suddenly  Renjun wants him to care.

Jaemin moves away from his lips, now, presses kisses to his jaw and his neck, and Renjun lets his own hand wind into Jaemin’s hair, pulls him against his skin a little harsher. All tongue and teeth, a nip into his skin.

“Mhmm.” Jaemin detaches himself, one last peck to the corner of Renjun’s lips, slides his hand out of his hair. It rests on his cheeks instead. “Are you okay with taking your pants off?”

Renjun nods, almost kants up his hips when Jaemin sits back and slides a hand along his thigh. “Yes. Yes.”

All of  this is so much gentler than what they did a few days ago, there’s none of the rush, Jaemin is being so careful.  Gentle, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of Renjun’s sweatpants and pulls them down bit by bit, waits for him to adjust. Leans down to smack a kiss on his hip bone, it makes them both giggle.

Renjun gestures in the general direction of Jaemin’s legs and Jaemin gets him—thank god, his face is burning enough—and slides his own sweatpants off.

They are both left in boxers, but there’s no rush now.

Jaemin keeps his hands on the tops of Renjun’s thighs, warm and soft, leans down to kiss his tummy until Renjun  is relaxed  enough to continue, stops thinking about what is happening.

“You good to go?”  Jaemin asks, two fingers already under the waistband of Renjun’s boxers, but he looks up at him first, with eyes so big and round they almost make Renjun swoon.

“Yes. Yes, go on.”

Jaemin does, taps Renjun’s hip so he lifts off the mattress enough for him to slide it down his legs, throws it somewhere to the floor next to the bed, where their pants should already be. To hell with a tidy bedroom.

Before Renjun can gesture for him to take his own off too, though, Jaemin dives down to press kisses along the line of Renjun’s hip, hand resting right next to his dick on his tummy, and it’s only then that Renjun realizes how exposed he is now. Stark naked in Jaemin’s bed, and he’s littering kisses over his bare skin.

Jaemin raises his eyes to look at him when the muscles in his abdomen tense, gives him a small smile, a squeeze to his hip. “Are you okay? You still in this?”

Renjun nods, wiggles his hips into the mattress and tries to breathe. This is fine.

Just  a little overwhelming, again, when Jaemin kisses his hips, his tummy, so gentle, caresses over his thighs and leaves a thin sheet of spit on Renjun’s skin until Renjun’s cock is nearing angry red and leaking.

“Jaemin.”  He  barely  gets the words past his throat, reaches down for  purchase  on something, Jaemin’s wrist or his hair, or  maybe  his neck. He settles for his hand, but Jaemin laces their fingers together. “Jaemin please do something, I’m going to lose it if you don’t—”

Jaemin cuts him off with a laugh. “Impatient?” he asks, trails a finger down Renjun’s hip.

Renjun decides that he’s giving up on every last spark of dignity in his bones when he wriggles his hips again and _whines_ _._ “Please touch me, I can’t take this.”

It catches Jaemin so off guard that he obliges immediately, hand wrapping around Renjun’s cock like it’s an instinct, thumb swiping up the beads of pre-cum at the tip. Renjun almost arches off the mattress with it, wanton moan, kicks his leg out behind Jaemin. He’s been waiting for this.

With his hand around Renjun’s cock, half bent over him, Jaemin asks, “What do you want?”

He knows what he wants,  maybe  he’s known since that day in the kitchen, letting Jaemin come down his throat without a warning, or  maybe  he’s known since before that. “I want you to fuck me.”

It takes him a little to get it out, words almost stuck in his throat, but it’s there. It’s been there for a while, the aching in his chest, the heat under his skin.  When he started averting his eyes in the dressing rooms, when he couldn’t sleep at night, thoughts running faster than he could keep up. Jeno tearing his shirt off onstage, the bulge in Jaemin’s pants, in the middle of the stage. Spotlight and several boys touching him and Renjun  just  couldn’t look away. Jeno hand on Jaemin’s arm backstage that day, they were so close. Renjun stared.

He still stares, at the flexing muscles in Jaemin’s stomach when he leans forward. “Are you sure?”

“I am  absolutely  sure.”  Jaemin right above him, fitting right between Renjun’s legs like they  were made  to fit like this, he’s never been more sure about something. “Unless you don’t have, like—”

“Oh, I do,” Jaemin cuts him off,  hurriedly, and they both laugh. “Don’t worry about that part.”

Renjun’s laugh fades into a smile, he looks up into Jaemin’s eyes. Straight into them, no more hiding, no more avoiding. He lays himself bare in front of him, looks up into those eyes. Sticky honey transforms into soft warmth, like the hands he keeps on Renjun’s legs, safe. He’s no longer trapped like a  fly , he’s held close and warm.

“Okay, then what are you waiting for?”

Jaemin laughs at him, now, strokes a hand up Renjun’s inner thigh before he presses a kiss to his nose, leans down to his bedside drawers and rummages around a little. He resurfaces, throws a condom and a bottle of lube next to Renjun on the mattress.

“I’m  just  not gonna ask why you have this lying around in your bedroom.”

Jaemin grins, wiggles his brows.  “Confidential information,” he says, uncaps the lube and pours it over his fingers  generously, warms it up between his palms. Sweetheart. “You ready?”

“Ready whenever you are.” Which earns him Jaemin rolling his eyes and a tiny pinch to his thigh.

It takes a bit of shuffling around, Jaemin repositioning between Renjun’s legs, shoving a pillow under Renjun’s ass to ease the strain, and Renjun lets his thighs fall open.

He’s fingered himself before,  just  to test it out, tiny bottle of lube hidden deep in the bottom drawer of his closet at the risk of Jeno snooping around, but this is different. He was impatient then, wanting to feel what was so special about it. Shoved a lubed finger up his ass without much care, and immediately recoiled.

Jaemin takes his time, rubs the pad of one finger against Renjun’s rim until it gives away on its own, and  slowly  pushes one finger in. Only up to his second knuckle, but it stings.

“It’s alright.” Jaemin litters kisses across his inner thigh to distract him, sucks a tiny red spot into his hip. “I promise it’ll feel better very soon. First time’s horrible, you can back out any time, alright?”

It’s too much talking, he’s talking so much, Renjun’s about to tell him off for it when he realizes that it stopped hurting while he focused on Jaemin’s voice, and that Jaemin now has a whole finger in him and it doesn’t hurt anymore. He almost gets comfortable, nothing much going on until Jaemin asks,

“You ready for the next one?”

The second one hurts  considerably  more, almost brings him to tears, but Jaemin keeps a hand around Renjun’s cock, stroking him to distract from the pain, peppers more kisses across his hips, his inner thighs, sucks more spots that will bruise in the morning. Anything to keep him in the moment.

It’s only once Renjun has  mostly  relaxed around three fingers inside of him—and dug his fingers into Jaemin’s arm hard enough that it’s  probably  going to bruise bluer than his own thighs—that Jaemin finally arches his fingers inside of him in  just  the right angle, presses the tip of one right into that spot, and Renjun sees stars. He arches off the bed so  violently  Jaemin has to shove an arm underneath his back to catch him.

It’s beyond anything he’s ever felt, the coil of heat in his guts threatens to snap any second, and he keens in the back of his throat. “Jaemin, holy shit,” curls a hand back into Jaemin’s biceps. “Holy shit.”

Jaemin keeps his fingers pressed there,  barely  moves, grins down at him. “See? I promised.”

He keeps his promises, Renjun knows, and he struggles to move his hips under Jaemin, push back on the fingers himself if Jaemin isn’t going to do anything.

But then he does, works his fingers in and out, presses them back into the spot over and over again and Renjun throws his head back on the mattress, twists one hand into the sheets in an attempt to not maul Jaemin’s arm any further. Tries to suffocate his moans in his own arm because they’re still in the dorms.

Just  as he is about to tell Jaemin to stop, that it’s too much and he’s going to come any moment if they don’t take a break and he still wants to get Jaemin’s dick inside of him tonight, the door flies open. Unlocked.

Of course it’s fucking unlocked, Renjun came here to talk and not to get fucked, but here they are, and Jeno stops dead in his tracks in the doorframe.

Nothing more uncomfortable than a silence between you and your two best friends, one of which currently has three fingers up your ass about three hours after you kissed the other one in the quiet of your bedroom. Jeno’s eyes get wider than Renjun thought they were capable of, his cheeks flush bright red.

“What the fuck,” he says, the first one to break the silence, stumbling back a step. “I—I  just , I wanted—”

“Oh my god.” Renjun doesn’t know what to do, where to go.  He doesn’t want to stop now that he’s so close to getting what he wanted, but how is he going to talk to Jeno with Jaemin’s fingers still in his ass? “Oh my god.”

Jaemin’s face burns even brighter than Jeno’s, flushed down to his chest, and he’s shaking. “Jeno—”

“No, it’s alright!” Jeno hurries to say, backing up further into the hallway. “You two finish that, I’ll come back later.  Maybe  we can talk about it!  Maybe  not. Goodbye.”

“Jeno, wait!”  Renjun scrambles into sitting position before Jeno can throw the door shut again, tries not to pull a face at Jaemin’s fingers slipping out of him, and drags Jaemin’s blanket over his lap to cover himself. “Please.”

Jeno turns around to them, careful, averts his eyes to the floor.

More silence blossoms between them, but Renjun reaches both hands out for Jeno, palms turned up. He looks up at Jaemin, cocks his head to the side. A question. Jaemin blushes even darker, furious red all over, but he nods, and Renjun says, “Come here.”

Jeno looks up, unsure, his eyes shake, Renjun smiles at him until he takes a few steps forward, rests his hands in Renjun’s. They’re still as warm and steady as they were earlier, a constant.

“Would you like to stay?”

His eyes widen, hands cramp around Renjun’s hand like he wasn’t already expecting the question. Why else would Renjun invite him back in? “I  really  didn’t mean to interrupt you guys, I didn’t know—”

“But do you want to stay?” Renjun asks again. He’s patient, wraps his fingers around Jeno’s palms.

Jeno is silent for a moment, for another, stares at Renjun’s face like he’s trying to take him apart, figure him out.  Maybe  he thinks they’re messing with him, so Renjun squeezes his hands. Then, a nod. “I’d love to.”

“Good. Because  I think  that we also want you to stay. Right?”

Jaemin nods when Renjun looks over at him, hair bouncing and his blush has receded a little. Pulled back into his face, colors him pink there but at least he doesn’t look like sunburnt anymore.

Renjun keeps the blanket over his lap, pulls Jeno closer to the bed, until he slips onto the mattress with them, fits into the mold like it  was made  for the three of them.  The picture is never complete with one of them missing, a unit even their fans recognize, Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin. The three of them.

“What do you want to do?” Renjun asks once Jeno has settled next to them, legs crossed.

Jeno looks at him, looks at Jaemin, tilts his head to the side. “Whatever you want me to do.”

Next to them, Jaemin muffles his laughter into his palm, and Renjun throws him a look. Not for long, his focus shifts back to Jeno, who’s still looking at him.

“Hmm, for a start, would you like to kiss me? You can say no anytime, alright?”

Jaemin stops chuckling soon enough when Jeno nods, says “Yes, okay,” and “Yes, I want to,” out loud when Renjun doesn’t move at first, and then they move together.  They know how this part works, they’ve been here, Jeno’s hand slides to the back of Renjun’s head, Renjun pulls him closer by his arm. Their lips mold together and Renjun tries not to move too much so as not to make the blanket slip off his lap.  It’s a little humiliating to  be naked  while Jeno is still  fully  clothed, even Jaemin is still in boxers, and he wants to be at least somewhat covered.

Jeno moves closer to him on his own now, forgets about whatever shame was holding him back.  He slides his other hand to Renjun’s side, startles a little still when it meets bare skin but Renjun grabs his wrist, plants his hand there. “It’s okay.”

They’re not shy, Renjun pulls, Jeno moves, it works like that.  Like a dance, and Renjun is very much aware of Jaemin staring at them, eyes burning on his skin when Jeno slides an arm around his back.

By the time Renjun is  fully  hard again under Jeno’s kisses and touches along his spine, Jaemin has moved closer to them, runs a hand from the back of Renjun’s neck down his back until his hand meets Jeno’s. They break apart and Renjun tries to move his head out of the way as Jeno and Jaemin stare at each other.

So much tension even he can  barely  stand it, so he says, “Well, do go on.”

Jeno laughs, a grin that meets Jaemin’s and then Jaemin fits himself behind Renjun, bare chest touching his back and they kiss over his shoulder, at an angle he can’t watch—but it’s hot, nonetheless.

Hot when Jaemin locks his arms around Renjun’s middle from behind, pulls him flush against him, and Jeno still has his hands on his back.  They are both so warm, Jaemin almost naked and Jeno  fully  clothed, and Renjun tries to distract himself from the problem southwards by kissing down Jeno’s neck, small pecks and bites, slides his hands under his sweater while they are at it.

When they move apart, Renjun strokes a hand down Jeno’s back and pecks his cheek, smiles up at him and asks, “Are you okay with … continuing where Jaemin and I left off?”

“Mhm.” Jeno nods. “That’d be great. What do you want me to do?”

“For now?” Renjun shuffles around until he’s in the position he was in earlier—on the pillow. facing Jaemin, Jeno on his left—and exchanges a smile with Jaemin. He looks ruffled, a little flushed, still pretty. “Hold me?”

They rid Jeno of his clothes, Renjun only pulls at the hem of his sweater, not much help from how he’s positioned, but Jaemin gets up on his knees and helps him. A kiss for every piece of fabric out of the way, and this time Renjun is actually far enough away to look at them.

The way they move together, Jeno’s lips melt into Jaemin’s, they hold each other  equally  tender.  It’s a sight to see, like they’re already used to the way the other moves, and Renjun wonders if this is  really  their first time.

Maybe  it’s not, he can’t say. Jeno and Jaemin have known each other for so long, have always moved as one.

Once they’re done, Jeno naked bar for his boxers,  just  like Jaemin, Jeno sits down behind Renjun, lets him rest his head on his chest, winds his arms around him. Jaemin sits back down between his legs.

“You still good?” he asks, grins when Renjun nods and gestures for him to continue. Lubes up his fingers again. “Don’t be impatient.”

Renjun almost kicks him, but he dives down between his legs, latches his mouth onto an already tender spot on his thigh at the same time he shoves all three of his fingers back up his ass at once, immediately crooking them into his prostate, and Renjun _keens_ _._

Jeno’s arms arm so warm around his chest, lock a little tighter at the movement, surprised. He looks down at him with wide eyes, and Renjun tries to smile, shaking lips.

Jaemin doesn’t let off, suckles along his thigh while digging his fingers into Renjun’s prostate until he’s shaking, kicking the leg Jaemin isn’t working on, trying very hard not to arch off the bed too hard.

“Jaemin, Jaemin, please, that’s enough, Jaemin—” He curls his fingers into Jeno’s arm, now, tries to draw in a breath as his legs begin to shake. He can feel Jaemin smiling against his thigh, a flash of cold teeth against the heated skin. Fucking sadist. “Come on, please, I’m ready.”

“Well, if you insist.”  He surfaces from between Renjun’s legs, hands a lot gentler than his face would let on when he strokes them up his thighs. He still smiles. “How do you want to do it?”

Renjun swallows, throat a little scratchy now that it’s about to happen. “Like this is fine.”

Jaemin looks at him for a long second, eyes deep, before he reaches for the bottle on his nightstand, hands it to Renjun. “Drink something. No need to be nervous.”  He strokes another hand down Renjun’s leg while Renjun does his best to get a few sips down in his position, before Jaemin puts the bottle back and grabs the condom instead. “You good to go? Anything else?”

It doesn’t sound impatient coming from Jaemin, he looks at him with open eyes. An honest question, and Renjun smiles at him. “No, thank you. I’m good to go.”

Before either of them can move into action, though, Jeno detaches himself from Renjun,  gently  sets him down on the bed and moves over to Jaemin.  Jaemin tries to say something, a question  maybe, ask what he’s doing, but his voice  is muffled  as Jeno kisses him, lets his hands slide down Jaemin’s sides.

Renjun hoists himself up on his elbows, watches as Jeno flips the script and helps Jaemin out of his boxers, runs a hand down his cock. Neither of them can stop staring at him, Jaemin rips the condom open like in a trance.

Now that he’s in, Jeno doesn’t let him be, he helps Jaemin roll the condom on, pumps his hand up and down his cock, flick of his wrist until Jaemin keels forward, flushed and panting. He rests his forehead on Jeno’s shoulder, hands scrambling to hold onto him, anywhere, anything. “Please, Jeno, oh my god—”

Jeno lets off of him, finally, a sweet kiss to his lips and Jaemin stares at him, burning red and eyes wide.

Renjun can’t stop staring at them, as Jeno sits back and gestures for Jaemin to continue. Which he does, he turns back to Renjun, looks at him as if to ask, _Did you see that now? Was I imagining that?_

He wasn’t, but Renjun doesn’t get a chance to say that.  Jaemin regains his composure, straightens his back and lubes up his own dick, presses two coated fingers around Renjun’s rim for a second, and lines himself up.

His eyes stay on Renjun’s face, careful, always asking. Never a step too far, Renjun nods at him.

It hurts.  Not even three fingers could have prepared him for this, it hurts, it feels like Jaemin is going to tear him apart, the pain shoots up his entire spine, like he’s ripping at the seams.  But Jaemin goes slow, slower than with his fingers, almost  agonizingly  slow and he keeps a hand stroking Renjun’s cock.

And Jeno is there, Renjun doesn’t see him move but he’s right as his side a blink later, a hand for Renjun to squeeze and the other running over his chest. Two fingers roll the bud of his nipple, lips attached to his neck.

They do everything to keep him busy, keep his mind off the pain in his back until Jaemin’s hips meet his ass, he bottoms out, and the pain begins to fade. Jeno tweaks his nipple and bites his neck, and Renjun moans.

One hand wound around Jeno’s biceps, Renjun wiggles his hips, tries to get used to the feeling. It  barely  hurts, now, but it’s heavy, strange, a dull kind of feeling that weighs down his lower back. Much different from the light flexibility of Jaemin’s fingers, it’s so much, right inside of him. “You can move,  I think.”

Jaemin cocks his head to the sight, his eyes never leave Renjun’s. “You think, or you’re sure?”

“Just  try, I’ll tell you if it hurts too much.”

But then Jaemin does move,  just  a tad bit closer, shifts a little on his knees and his dick presses deeper into Renjun, angle adjusted and he hits right where Renjun needs him to.

He sees stars, his back would’ve flown off the mattress hadn’t it been for Jeno’s hands on him, the sound leaving his mouth is  barely  human.  His left hand digs deeper into Jeno’s arm, the other reaches  blindly, chases for any kind of  purchase  until he finds Jaemin’s hand mid-air, finger tangling together.

“Jaemin, please move, please, I’m sure—”

And Jaemin _does,_ pulls out almost  entirely  and fucks back in, still too slow but Renjun will take what he can get, tries to move his hips on his own accord. Jaemin curls a hand around his hip, holds him in place.

At least he picks up his pace, then, getting the message. His hand still clings to Renjun’s, holding tighter.

Jeno moves down from Renjun’s neck, kisses down his chest, one hand still working its fingers around his nipple until his mouth finds the other one.  Renjun almost cries out loud when he sucks it into his mouth, tongue swirling around the bud, at the same time as Jaemin drives into his prostate harder.

His vision blurs, he doesn’t know where his own limbs go anymore, Jaemin slides the hand on his hip down to his leg, pushes Renjun’s thigh up against his stomach, their hands stay intertwined on the other side. Renjun’s other arm leaves Jeno’s, slides around him instead, pulls him closer.  A hand against his jaw, Jeno looks so wonderful like this, he’s burning, loses his steadiness,  all of  his composure when Renjun has half the mind to slide his hand between Jeno’s legs, under the waistband of his boxers. He’s rock-hard, almost dripping wet.

Their lips meet in a tangle, Jaemin snaps his hips forward and has Renjun moan into Jeno’s open mouth. He winds his hand around Jeno’s cock, his legs around Jaemin’s hips, pulling him closer.

Regains his grip on reality until Jeno is panting into his mouth, lips burning against his, until Jaemin loses his rhythm and every snap of his hips has Renjun’s cock leaking precum, and the heat coils tighter in his stomach. It’s almost painful, it aches under the added weight of Jaemin’s cock, pressing up into his guts.

He’s about to tear away from Jeno’s mouth, he’s about to say something  along the lines of  I’m gonna come, but Jaemin  suddenly  still inside of him. Stares at the two of them, at Renjun’s hand down Jeno’s pants and their lips, bruised red from kissing. Jeno leaking all over Renjun’s fingers.

He cocks his head to the side, and his eyes meet Renjun’s again. “Jeno, what do you think about Renjun sucking you off?” he asks, looking up at him. “I promise he’s good at that.”

Jeno’s eyes go wide, the flame in Renjun’s stomach roars at the thought.

“Like, right now? While you …”

“Mhm.” Jaemin smacks his lips together, looks down at Renjun. Even while spitting depraved bullshit, his eyes are so tender. “What do you think, Renjun? That okay with you?”

In a moment of absolute clarity, Renjun looks Jaemin in the eyes and says, “That would be so fucking hot.”

Jaemin laughs, Jeno manages a chuckle, but Renjun’s still got his hand wrapped around his cock, so it turns into a hiss pretty soon.  They reposition, Jaemin helps Renjun sit up against the headboard as he has kind of a hard time wiggling around, then he kneels back down between his legs, Jeno kneels next to Renjun and rolls a condom onto himself that Jaemin fishes out of the drawer for him.

Renjun wraps his hand around his cock again, first, pumps it up and down until Jeno’s  fully  hard again, collects some precum from the tip with his thumb. Between his legs, Jaemin lines himself up again.

Jeno’s eyes are still blown wide when Renjun looks up at him, and he looks at him with so much tenderness, almost careful as Renjun brushes the seam of his lips against the tip of his cock. Runs the flat of his tongue against it, for a taste, and Jeno groans so hard the muscles in his stomach vibrate.

It almost makes Renjun laugh, but then Jaemin pushes back into him in one smooth slide, and he seals his lips around Jeno’s cock at the same time.

Jaemin has both of his hands around Renjun’s thighs now, flesh bulging under his grip, so hard it will  probably  bruise. He pulls him apart, pulls him open, plunges into him.  Blunt tip of his cock pressing right into Renjun’s prostate, over and over, Renjun can  barely  see, he’s losing his rhythm around Jeno’s cock, tries to hold Jeno back from bucking up into his mouth when he moans around him, but his hands are shaking.

He’s so full, cock on both ends, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this stuffed and it’s exhilarating, he doesn’t know what to do about it, his head swims and his vision blurs with stars. It’s overwhelming, his legs shake and his cock is weeping precum onto his own tummy. It doesn’t matter, Jaemin drives into him harder.

Renjun goes down deeper on Jeno, keeps his hand around what he can’t reach, curls his tongue around him.  Jeno is grasping at him, he’s trying not to, Renjun can tell, remembers Jaemin apologizing for gripping his hair.

“Holy fucking shit, _Renjun,”_ and Renjun can’t even tell who of them said it.  Maybe  both.

Jaemin falls over him, buries himself deep inside of him and latches his lips onto Renjun’s neck, lying exposed. Teeth digging in to suppress the groan building in his throat, but Renjun hears it anyway.

It’s all so much, Jaemin so deep in his guts, pressing right into the spot that makes him see stars, fucking into it again, and again, Jeno’s dick heavy and warm in his mouth.  Heady taste, heat spreading all throughout his body and he doesn’t know how much longer he can take it, every moan around Jeno’s cock makes Jeno shake more.

“Renjun,” he gasps, twists his fingers into Renjun’s hair at last, “Renjun, hold on, I’m gonna—”

Renjun doesn’t hold on, doesn’t move away.  If anything, he presses even closer, deeper, sucks even harder until Jeno pulls his hair so hard it actually hurts, and comes into the condom with a drawn-out moan.

Jaemin is next,  just  a moment later, he bites down on Renjun’s collar bones harder, his fingers dig deeper into the meat of Renjun’s thighs, and he fucks  directly  into Renjun’s prostate one, two, three more times before he spills into the condom, heated forehead pressing into Renjun’s skin, Renjun holds the back of his neck.

He fucks himself through it, the heat of him inside his ass drives Renjun crazy, and Jaemin twists a hand around Renjun’s cock until the coil of heat finally snaps.  So hard he sees white, it knocks the breath out of him and he can feel his own cum splattering on his chest, it reaches up to his chin.

Maybe  he loses time for a moment, or  maybe  Jeno and Jaemin are  just  very quiet for a second, but then Jaemin hoists him back up against the headboard he’d slipped down,  gently  taps his cheek, smiles.

They all smile, Jeno falls into the mattress next to them with a laugh.

Renjun doesn’t remember much of what happens afterwards, he’s so tired things blur together a little.  Jaemin makes them both drink more, Jeno drags a blanket from his bedroom over and  faintly, Renjun remembers that he stumbled into the bathroom, covered in Jaemin’s bathrobe, for some wet wipes.

The sheets can  be changed  in the morning, even if it’s a little nasty to lie in them like this.

Lots of things can  be dealt  with in the morning, like talking about what  just  happened, sorting this mess. For tonight, Renjun’s head is too heavy. It’s been a long night, and he doesn’t know what to think  just  yet, doesn’t know what any of this means yet.

But they can deal with that in the morning.

This, cuddling, holding each other, they know how to do. This is easy. They fit together, a perfect picture, a complete one.  Jeno’s face pressed into the back of Renjun’s neck, arms around his middle, and Jaemin snuggles his head into Renjun’s chest. This is warm, the good kind of warm. The comforting kind. This is now.

The rest is for later.

**Author's Note:**

> haha! hahaha. can noah write porn without disgusting feelings? no!
> 
> please leave a kudos or a comment (or both!) if you enjoyed !!
> 
> find me, scream at me, become my friend on [twitter](https://twitter.com/rosyjaeh) or [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/rosyjaem)!!


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